


You've Got Mail

by hobbitonlights



Category: Call of Duty
Genre: Gen, I found this on my laptop from like three years ago, I'm so sorry, Interactive, What Have I Done, all of them should be in fact, price has an intimate tattoo?, soap should totally be a male stripper, the fourth wall has been broken
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4291218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbitonlights/pseuds/hobbitonlights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a new public relations campaign, Shepherd has the 141 respond to letters and emails written to them by curious civilians (the readers).</p>
<p>Things are about to get real awkward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dammit, Shepherd

**Author's Note:**

> So I found this on my laptop from forever ago, I thought it was too terrible not to post. If you have any questions for the 141, be sure to leave them in the comments!

MacTavish looked dejectedly at the pile of mail on his desk. The intrusive items covered everything, from the recruit’s training reports to the latest publication of Scot’s Life. He turned to his lieutenant, who was smirking at the captain’s face.

MacTavish groaned. “Ghost, what the bloody hell are all these letters for? Did Royce enter one of those Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes again?"

“Probably. But that’s not what all those letters are.”

“Well then why are they on my desk?”

“Because,” Ghost began, sitting down on a chair next to the massive mountain of mail, “we’re going to answer them.”

“I… don’t understand,” MacTavish admitted. “Who are they from?”

“The public. The government is doing this public relations thing where civilians can send mail to us, and we answer their questions about our life in the military,” Ghost explained. There was a moment of silence.

“…that's the worst idea I've ever heard,” MacTavish scoffed.

"I don't know, it might be kind of fun. It's like a pen pal program, except this time we're not paired up with convicts from a federal prison."

"Was this Shepherd's idea to get us involved with this?"

"Naturally."

"God fucking dammit." Soap held his head in his hands.

Ghost rolled his eyes. “Whatever, mate. Let’s just get started on these bloody letters.”


	2. F7 Key

"CAPTAIN MACTAVISH YOU TOTALLY SHOULD HAVE BEEN ON MAGIC MIKE. SO DO YOU GUYS HAVE ANY TATTOOS? THAT WOULD BE SOO HOOOOOT.  
P.S HOLY MOTHER OF MACMILLAN. GHOST I'VE SEEN PICTURES OF YOU ONLINE AND YOU ARE SO FREAKIN SEEEXXXYYYYY WHEN YOUR NUUUUUDE. GODDAMN I CAN'T BREATHE HALF THE TIME. WHY DO YOU WEAR THAT BALACLAVA OF YOURS ANYWAYS? SHOW THE WORLD YOUR SEXINESSSSSS BOY.  
P.P.S Roach I know your homosexual. So go ahead and search Ghost up ;)"

 

“THERE ARE FUCKING SEXUAL PICTURES OF US ON THE INTERNET?!?”

Everyone in the room promptly stopped whatever they were doing and looked over at the English lieutenant, who was turning red (well, they assumed) in the face. MacTavish stared at the computer screen with his jaw slack, and Price just closed his eyes and buried his head in his hands. 

Roach walked over to the computer and stuck his head between the other men’s. 

“Where?” he asked.

The officers looked at him, their brows furrowed.

Roach blushed. “Not that I’m gay or anything, just trying, to, ya know, um… help you find them so we can get rid of ‘em. Just trying to help.”

Ghost frowned. "Doesn't the government or Shepherd or someone read these before they get sent to us? This seems a little... inappropriate."

"Forget the government checking it, what about spellcheck?" Price scowled. "F7 key gents, it's not that hard."

MacTavish sighed and looked at the rest of the letter. “Someone gave us a link to something called deviantart.”

“Deviantart? Like deviant? I don’t like where this is going…” Price muttered.

MacTavish clicked the link, and the website popped up. A picture of Soap appeared. “Hey, this is isn’t too racy.” He scrolled down to see the rest of the picture. 

“Never mind!” he exclaimed as he quickly closed out of the website.

 

"Dear writer,

To be honest, we didn’t even know those were there. Uh, the general doesn’t know about them, right?

 

Sincerely, 

Captain John MacTavish and the rest of the Task Force 141.

P.S. I liked the one where I was wearing a-"

 

“SOAP!”

 

"Never mind."

 

“Alright, tattoos,” MacTavish continued, somewhat grudgingly. “Who has ‘em?”

“I have a skull on my left bicep,” Ghost offered up. “And the SAS dagger on my neck you and I got when we were pissed, MacTavish.”

“Oh, yeah,” Soap smiled, remembering. “I have that too, and that tribal one on my shoulder. How about you, Roach?”

“I have a butterfly.”

Ghost and MacTavish stared. Roach shrugged. “What? I like butterflies.”

Ghost coughed. “Price?”

“There is no bloody way you are going to stick a needle in me. Do you know how often they clean those things? And almost all the tattoo artists have a crim-“

“So, nothing?”

“Nope.”

 

"Dear Ghost is da best," (Ghost smirked)

"Yeah, some of us have tats. Mac and I have an SAS dagger on our necks. I’ve also got a skull, and MacTavish has a tribal sign on his shoulder. Roach just has a butterfly, the pansy. Price has an intimate tattoo that he won’t tell us about, but I’m pretty sure it’s of a girl.

 

Sincerely, Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley and the rest of the Task Force 141"

 

“Ghost, you better delete that!” Price shouted.

“Too late!” the Englishman exclaimed as he hit ‘send.’ 

“YOU BASTARD!” Price tackled Ghost and brought him to the ground. After a few punches and kicks, the two reappeared at the table, glaring daggers at each other.

“Um, next question. It seems like everybody wants to know whether or not we’re gay,” MacTavish read, clearing his throat.

“I’m not!” Roach shouted quickly, and a little defensively. All the men looked at him again. There was a moment of silence.

Ghost cleared his throat. “Well, I’m straight,” he declared. A smirk grew on his face. “Just ask the girl I was with last night.”

MacTavish rolled his eyes. “I have a girlfriend.”

Ghost snickered. “Yeah, I’m sure you love to pretend your hand is a real girl.”

Soap smacked him.

Roach looked at Price and put a hand on his shoulder. “How about you, Captain Price? Are you married or dating someone?” 

Price shrugged of the sergeant’s hand. “First of all, never touch me. And I’m married to the job, I’m afraid.”

 

"Dear 141luver, 

None of us are in a relationship together. Believe me, things are crazy enough here; we don’t need sergeants shagging their superiors.

Sincerely,

Captain John Price and the rest of the Task Force 141"

 

“Why did you put sergeants shagging their superiors?” Roach whined. 

“Because I know you, boy,” Price replied.

“Yeah? Well-“

“Anyways,” MacTavish interrupted, “it looks like the rest of these questions are personal, just take your list and head to your rooms.”

The men took their list and dispersed, not knowing how awkward the next hour would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's something wrong with me. Leave your questions for the 141 in the comments below!


End file.
